Clove: As Sharp As A Knife
by Loveableheart
Summary: Clove. What do you think of when you hear the word? A spice? The flower? What about the deadly girl from District Two? Clove's Story. .:I don't own Hunger Games:.
1. Check

"Clove..."

_Zzzzz..._

"Clove..."

_Zzzzz..._

"Clove!"

I feel the cloud hit my cheek and my eyes fly open. Glancing around, I sigh. "Thanks."

Pepper, my younger sister by seven years, gives me a smug little grin. "Anything for you, Freckle-Face."

I roll my eyes. "I told you not to call me that."

"Fine, then. I'll call you Monster Hair. Try to brush that ferret on your head would you?" She says with a wicked grin.

I grab the pillow she threw. "I should tell mom you said that."

"But, you won't! That's Thyme's job!" She sticks out her tongue, and she dodges my feeble toss, and the pillow flops on the floor. With a laugh, she flounces out, red hair in tow.

With a sigh, I slowly get out of bed. Checking the clock, I groan. It's ten thirty. I have one and half hours to get ready.

Silently, I wash off, and dry my hair. I fix it up in a tight bun, and walk out of the bathroom.

Our beds are ruffled and unmade. I want to crawl back under the covers, and for a moment, I feel like I've swallowed ice. _I'm leaving home... _Then shake my head. I'm coming back within a month, tops. I'm going to gain my ally's trust and then kill them all in their sleep once it's down to the final eight. Then, I simply elimate the remaining tributes. As easy as tag.

Slipping into a silky, cream dress, I pull on flats and even spritz perfume around me. If I'm going to the Capitol, I have to look nice, right?

Once I trump down the steps, I sit down at the table where Thyme is quizzing Pepper on Hunger Games History for her test tomorrow.

"And what was the Arena in the 63rd Hunger Games?" Thyme says, sipping orange juice.

"Wasn't it... A wheat feild and some plains?" Pepper says, drumming her fingers on the table.

"Nope," Thyme says. "That was the 6_4_th games. 6_3_rd was a frozen tundra. Don't mix the two. Next, who won the 32nd games?"

"Plum Eveengie. District Eleven," I say, stabbing some eggs on my plate.

Pepper grins, and Thyme looks at me. "Who is the futare Victor of the 74th Hunger Games?"

"Is it, possibly... _Clove Wilkinson_?" Pepper says, wiggeling her eyebrows.

"Ding ding," Mom says sitting down across from me. "We have a winner!"

I smile. "Thanks. I'll make history! I promise."

Mom pats my wrist. "You always have, my little Spice."

With a laugh, I feel one-hundred percent more confident.

Once we arrive at the square, I take my place in the 15 section, and think of everything I've learned in class: _At the Reapings, stand up tall, and don't give any emotions away once your on the stage. On the train, gain your partners trust. Get close to them. You'll have to rely on eachother. At training, show off your skills. Imitimidate the feild. During your private session, showcase your best skills, and display your knowledge of weaponry. During your Interveiws-_

Someone nudging my shoulder breaks my thoughts. Not bothering to turn, I clench my fists. "What?"

"Just wanted to wish you luck, Pebble. I heard from Thyme that your volunteering."

My eyes shift, and I relax hearing Onyx's voice. Onyx is Thyme's best friend. Actually I'm surprised my sister could narrow down the group of friends she has. She's pretty popular. I myself prefer to be alone. Focus on the training and studies, not friendships you'll forget in a year.

"Thanks," I say picking at a loose thread on my dress. "Oh, and don't call me Pebble anymore. By the time I'm done in The Games, I'll go by Clove the Magnificent. Just looking at me is going to make you famous later. Everyone wondering how you know me."

She snorts. "Alright, _Miss Magnificent_."

I stare at our escot as she takes the stage. Each curl rainbow, skin sparkly pink. What a freak. But I'll pretend to like the fashion during my interveiws.

"Onyx, go away," I say quietly. "Run back to my sister. Oh, and sorry I'm taking your last chance to enter The Games. But not really."

Even without looking, I can feel her blue eyes on my face. "Are you kidding me, Clove? Don't be so arrogent. You've always been small and mean..."

She steps away, but I know she means for me to hear her last sentence: "I wouldn't place a bet on you if someone garunteed you'd make it to the final two."

Ignoring her, I wait as the escort, Sunni Markson, grinned. "Hello children! Welcome to another year!"

She rambles on and on about the history of The Games and how she wishes one day her kids could have the oppurtunity we do.

Then, she walks over to the girls crystal ball. I take a deep breath, smooth my skirts, and get ready to yell. I'm not actually the one who's rumored to volunteer this year.

Granite Clark is. She's a seventeen year old who's 'exceptionally gifted' with spears. I think she's an airhead who'd sooner fall off her podium than win The Games.

She slips her hand in, and yanks a scrap of paper out and breaks the seal. Giggling, she opens it, and peeks out from behind it. Stupid...

I can almost hear Pepper rolling her eyes from beside Mother.

"Jimina Nickz!"

A girl from the fourteen area walks out, and trots up the stage.

"Any volunteers?" Sunni says.

The minute the 's' leaves her purple lips, I scream: "I volunteer!"

Some kids murmer and glance around. ("What about Granite?" "Was she planning on volunteering?" "I thought an older girl was going to..." "Is that... I don't know, Cinnamon or something?" "Oh, she's the girl that's always at the knives station in Gym" "Think she'll last?)

I run up the steps, and Jimina glares at me as she leaves. "Thanks for ruining my chances."

Sweeping past her, I turn to the crowd.

"And who are you?" Sunni asks.

"Clove Wilkinson," I say, and supress a grin. Instead, I face the cameras, and let my eyes speak. _I am going to win. _

She gives a nod. "Well, that's as lovely as a gem! Now, let's see who the brave boy is!"

She seems to take longer, and in the end, Cato volunteers. He's eighteen, so I haven't seen him much around school. I've talked to him a couple times in Gym. He walks up on stage, and shakes my hands.

I pull my hand away as soon as possible. I don't want anyone thinking I'm friends with him. Friendship is weakness.

And I don't have weakness. Instead I have plans.

Plan 1) Become the best knife thrower in District Two. CHECK.

Plan 2) Volunteer for the Hunger Games. CHECK

Plan 3) Win the Hunger Games.

CHECK.


	2. My Bad Side

The train is beautiful. From the moment we leave, I keep my nose pressed to the glass, watching. When we chug out of the gates of our District, I watch the Peacekeepers swing the iron gates shut, the latch snapping. From then on, it's an electric fence- but that soon fades into the forest.

"So," Cato says walking beside me. "Why did _you _volunteer?"

"Did you want Granite to? Too bad, I'm here," I quip.

For a moment he just blinks, then rolls his eyes. "I guess you are just like all the other Volunteers."

I turn and look at him accusingly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs, flashing a smile as he walks away. "Your like me."

**3 Hours Later**

We watch the Reapings on the Re-run, sitting on the squishy couches in the living compartment.

There's the pair from one, and four. We agree to ally with them, but I don't trust the girl from One very much. Well, I trust her more than the girl from Five. Five looks like a theif. Sneaky.

The people from the rest are simple, but the boy from Eleven is as big Cato.

I look over at my District partner. "You have serious cometition?"

I almost smile, watching him squirm. He sets his jaw, and doesn't glance in my direction. "Not likely."

Finally, it wraps up with Twelve having a volunteer. I didn't catch the girls name, Kaptiss or something. She looks pretty poor, just her face. However her dress is a really pretty velvet.

I stroke my own gown as we walk to dinner.

"So," I say to Enobaria, my mentor. "When exactly are we getting to the Capitol?"

Enobaria shrugs, but Bruce answers. "Usually early morning. Normally we and District Nine are the first to arrive."

I nod slowly, chewing the soft greens on my plate.

Enobaria clears her throat, placing her knife and fork down. "I think I have waited long enough. What are your strategies to win? What weapons are you good with?"

"Knives," I say quickly.

Bruce raises his eyebrows. "Really? Show me?"

"Where?" I ask.

He thinks for a minute, and walks over about fifteen feet, and uses some sticky thing he was chewing to glue a green-bean to the wall. "This."

I nod again. "Simple enough."

Picking up the knife on the plate, I raise it back, and then my mind calculates eveything. The spins, juding from the distance will be 30. The trajectory will need to be about 5 inches high, so it can drop some. Finally, I swing it forward, and snap my wrist.

The knife flies through the air in a blur, and then sticks straight in the green-bean.

Bruce laughs. "Woah, I'd be scared to get on your bad side."

I smirk. "Well, it could happen."

Cato cracks his knuckles, holding his hands on the table. "I'm good with spears and swords."

Enobaria grins, flashing her gold-platd teeth. "Are you now?"

He nods. "Mh-Hm. I'm a pretty good knife-thrower too. What other skills do you have, Clove?"

I purse my lips. That last sentence was to make fun of me. I've concentrated so much on knife throwing my whole life, I haven't studied anything else.

I clear my throat, smiling bitterly-sweet. "Welcome to my bad side, Cato."

**The Next Morning**

A loud knock on my room door makes me groan, turning over in the silk sheets. "Go away."

"We're in the Capitol!" It's Sunni Markson. "We're here, Clove, get up!"

My eyes fly open, and I tear the covers off, running to the door. I jump out, shoving past Sunni.

When I reach the first window, I press my nose against it. Colors. Beautiful silver and pink buildings glitter. Blue, green, white... The skyscrapers are so blinding and beautiful at the same time. My breath fogs up a patch of the glass, and suddenly I can feel Cato behind me.

_Don't turn around, don't do it Clove..._

But I can't resist. I turn, and cross my arms. "What do you want?"

He watches the city of the window instead. "Oh, well I saw you and wanted to apologize for waht I said at dinner and then I thoght-"

"Well I don't accept," I snap as if I'm arguing with Pepper or Thyme back home.

He smiles sarcastically again. "You didn't let me finish. Then I though, _why Cato? She's a little brat, 3 year younger than you. She isn't worth it. She'll be dead before the final twelve._" He pauses for a moment, looking at me. "And I'm right."

Tears sudenly choke my throat. Why am I crying? I didn't let it faze me when Onyx insulted me, and I've known her my whole life, so why am I letting some stranger try to attack me?

His eyes glint, watching me stare at him. "And you know that I'm right. I mean, Clove? More like clam. Your all shut up inside, holding your feelings in. Your just empty inside and rough on the outisde. A hard shell."

Tears prick my eyes. "Your wrong... Your wrong... Your _wrong_. I'm going to win. No, I'm going to win and I'm to kill you. When I'm in the Arena, your the first person I get rid of. Understand?"

"I understand fine, Clam," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

My hands start to shake. I see a knife laying on the table, but I calm myself down. _Don't kill him yet..._

He turns to walk away and I swipe my tears away, and suddenly I'm not intersted in the Capitol people as we arrive in the station. I hate them all. And I hate Cato. He's arrogant and a snob. I imagine a target on him, a large red circle. I will kill him.

See how he likes my bad side.

* * *

**There will be 10 chapters to this:**

**1. REAPING**

**2. TRAIN**

**3. CHARIOTS**

**4. TRAINING**

**5. INTERVEIWS and CORNCOPIA**

**6. ARENA STUFF**

**7. TRACKER JACKERS**

**8. EXPLOSION**

**9. AFTER THAT**

**10. FEAST**

**I hope that you liked these two chapters! Please reveiw! Tell me what you want to hear! Thanks!**

**~Meghan**


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